Beadle's Half Dime Library, No. 388 — page 4: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

oe ee —_——— -_— ‘Do you mean the young fellow with his hat cocked up in front?’ asked one of the pas- sengers. ‘* Certainly. | The person who cballenged us.” ‘‘ An’ afterward was nearly knocked off his horse by that strappin’ feller with the lojun ell?” ‘‘ Exactly.” “Why, ’ve clapped my peepers on him be- fore.” ‘*Indeed? Who is he?” ‘He swings the handle of Little Oh-my.” “You Americans have odd nick-names for one another,” said the Spaniard. ‘‘ But what can this mean?’ ‘* Why, he’s little, but—oh, my! See?” And the elucidator laughed. ‘* You will allow,” he went on, ‘‘that be has a brash way with him that’s calculated to make the average man take a back seat,” “This is a strange country,” observed the Spaniard, a little dryly, ‘‘ where the boys ter- rorize the men!” ‘‘Waal, it ain’t every boy as kin do-it, ye onderstand,” said his informant. ‘‘ But thar’s boys an’ boys. Some boysis a dog-gone sight smarter’n some men. That you will allow.” ‘‘And do you stom your coaches whenever one of these smart boys—” ‘* Hold on right thar!” interposed Con Barry, feeling that he was called upon to defend his conduct. ‘‘ You may think it a low-down thing to pull up an’ hand yer pilgrims over to road- agents. That shows how incoosiderate most folks is. You goes over this hyar road onc't; but J] goes through every day. Ef I takes one party through on the keen jump, what’s to pre- vent the agents from layin’ fur me an’ lettin’ aay ae through me, so’s’t the company will put on a more accommodatin’ driver in my place? My hide won’t stop a pistol-ball sooner than one o’ yours; an’ I ain’t takin’ no sure death, ye onderstand, fur the filthy stipend I gits out o’ the transportation company! When ou travels in the West, we checks you through, ut you goes at your own resk!” “That seems very reasonable from that point of view,” smiled the Spaniard, ‘* Don’t it, now?” asked Con, earnestly. The stage kept on without any further inter- ruption until it reached Two Bits, t was received with eager curiosity. ‘* Have you been called by the agents?” was the demand. ‘You bet!” responded Con Barry. ** An’ got cleaned out ag’in?” “* Not much!” ““ What prevénted?” Sand!’ “‘ Not your sand, I'll go bail!” ‘Johnny, wait until you’ve got sand enough to drive a coach at all, before you do any amount o’ shoutin’!” ‘Then you really stood ’em off among you?’ “T allow that this hyar gent done the most toward it. An’ what’s more, he spotted their leader.” All looked at the Spaniard with interest, modified by prejudice, Could a *‘ Greaser” be “ any good?” The Spaniard turned away, as if annoyed at poe thus brought to notice in the role of a ero. ‘Their leader?” repeated a curious one, ** An’ who do you think it was?” ‘‘ Give us an easy one!” ‘You'd never git it through your thick to knots; so [ll give ye the cue, It was Little Oh-my.” ‘*Go’way!” ‘* It was, ur you may shoot me!” ‘* That boy!’ ‘‘He’s man enough fur you! Ill put my money on that!” ‘Why, hyar he is now.” All turned, to see a youth mounted on a powerful horse dash up with as much confidence as if he had nothing to apprehend. ‘** He’s got the cheek of the old ’un!” muttered nee of the bystanders, ‘‘ef you’re sure it’s im. ** Waal, it ain’t nobody else!” ‘‘ Hallow, youngster!” cried one of the men. ‘* We've been gittin’ a bad account of you.” ‘*Ts that so?” asked tbe youth, with a laugh, as he drew up in their midst, ‘They tell us that you are the leader of the road-agents,” ‘‘Don Carlos? Ha! ha! Are you sure they didn’t say that I was the follower of the road- St I don’t know as I could very well deny tha ‘* Leader or follower, you'll find that it ain’t euch a good joke as you seem to take it.” ‘Little Oh-my. © ‘What do you mean?” cried Little Ob-my, seeing that the man spoke in earnest. ‘‘] mean that you stand about as good a chance o’ dancin’ on nothin’ as ary galoot I ever see in this hyar camp; I’ve been at the plantin’ of every one that bas a high lot up the slope.” ‘*'You are crazy! What are you trying to get through you?” ‘What do you say, gents? You're the ones that spotted him.” And the speaker turned to the occupants of the coach, “There can be no mistake,” answered the Spaniard. ‘ He is the person that challenged the coach and led the road-agents throughout,” Others corroborated this statement unhesi- tatingly. The boy stared in open-mouthed astonish- ment. He saw the men approaching to take him in custody, with the wratbful frowns of judges who bad already condemned. ‘* Hold on, gentlemen!” he cried. ‘ This is a conspiracy! See! my accuser is a Greaser! He himself may be Don Carlos. It would bea clever trick to throw Marsha) Probst off the scent by putting me up AS @a scapegoat,” ‘* You shall bave a fair trial, an’ a chance to show all that, if you kin make any one believe it. But meanwhile the senor don’t happen to be the only one that seen you at your tricks,” And the men began to close in about their intended captive. He knew tbe value of “a fair trial” in that country. If, after he was hanged, the boys discovered that they had made a mistake, the would declare that it was ‘‘ a dog-gone shame,” and that would be the end of the matter. The next suspected man would be strung up out of hand the same way. Knowing this, be had no disposition to submit himself to the arbitrament of an impartial jury of his fellow-country men, ‘** Stand back!” he cried, whipping out his re- volver. ‘*Take him, boys! He’sa slippery one!” was the os And on all sides they sprung to seize his bridle-rein or his person. As he gave his horse the spur, he reversed his weapon and knocked on the bead a man who had seized his bridle-rein. With a tremendous bound the horse clave his way through the crowd; then away on the wings of the wind went Little Oh-my! | “Shoot him! Kill tbe villain!” went up the shout. But amid a rattle of fire-arms the bold youth escaped, Then the cry was: ‘* Probst! bar’s the marshal?” CHAPTER IV. THE MARSHAL OF TWO BITS. At one end of Two Bits, far enough awa from the other houses to leave an open space all about it of a bundred yards or so, stood Mar- shal Probst’s “ fort.” As Con Barry had described it, it was built of lanks too thick to be penetrated by a pistol- ball. That there might be no break in any of its four walls, it was without windows, the gee being admitted through a skylight in the roof, Its one door was a solid oaken barrier which would bid defiance to any ordinary assault, Two Bits was noted for its utter lawlessness. Thus far its marshals had all ‘‘ died with their boots on.” They were ‘‘planted ” in a row on the hillside, with head-boards which bore the date of their election to office and their “‘ pass- ing out.” hese dates were in no case twelve months apart, It was therefore with a full knowledge of the dangers he braved that Jake Probst had con- sented to assume the fatal bonor. He had begun by declaring that be would have a quiet camp or a quiet graveyard; and to make the execution of his threat the more im- pressive, he had started a private graveyard, where he ‘‘ planted” the breakers ef the peace who came to their death by his means, When a new man came into the camp, he was duly escorted to this spot, and the row of mounds were a silent setting-forth of the majes- ty of the law to which words could add nothing. In his ‘‘ fort” sat the marshal who for six months bad beld his own against all comers. He was full six feet in stature, with broad shoulders and deep chest. and stern-set features, which gave hima formidable appearance. —-— = = Pe = ~*~ . ~ » — With his feet on the table, he sat in a home made chair constructed of hickory saplings. He was smoking a stumpy clay pipe, and frown- ing meditatively, ‘*Moight I be so bowld,” ventured an Irish- man at his elbow—one Micky McClosky, who always thought of bimself as ‘‘the mairshal’s depity,” though the boys were so irreverent és to call him ** Probst’s coyote.” ‘* Waal, spit ’er out,” said the marshal, with- out looking ronnd, ‘‘Whin will we be afther tacklin’ that divil, Dan Cairlos, I duano?” ‘‘That’s none of your infernal business,” re- plied the marshal, in a tone which was entirely free from annoyance, ‘* No offince, yer honor!” Probst stretched himself and yawned. Suddenly his manner underwent a complete change. e turned his eyes toward the door, and so sat on the alert. ‘‘ Somebody is coming this way,” he said. ‘¢'Yer bonor has shairp ears,” said Micky, not however going to tbe length of admitting that he bad heard nothing as yet. But a moment later approaching footsteps became apparent to even bim. ‘* Tt’s a thafe o’ the world!” he whispered, ob- serving that they were stealthy. ‘Dry up!—will you?” was the marshal’s terse command, The steps ceased at the door. Then, aftera a silence in which the breathing of some one was faintly audible to the acute hearing of the marshal, three measured knocks were told off on the door as if with a pistol-butt. This bold summons was so out of keeping with what had gone before that the Irishman started with alarm, and drew his revolver, muttering: ‘* Howly Mither!” ‘““Who’s byar?’ demanded Probst, without changing his position. There was no verbal reply; but a scraping sound drew his eye to the crevice beneath the door. There he saw ascrap of coarse brown paper making its way into the room. Jake Probst was pot a man who liked mys- teries. Hesaw that the applicant without did not mean to show bis face, and that of itself was enough to make bim resolve that be would see it at all hazards. With a whiff he blew out the candle, sprung to the door, swung up the bar which secured it, and leaped out into the night. He knew that be must first depend upon his ears; so the moment he was clear of the door- way, so that an enemy could not use that ssa guide to nick him off, he crouched down, and remained perfectly still, peering about him on all sides. But he was disappointed. He heard no re- treating footsteps; he saw no flitting shadow. From the camp came the noises of its nightly carousal, but immediately about him all was as still as if wrapped in death, Micky McClosky had remained in his place. He was too well trained to hazard the balking of his master’s efforts by moving without or- ders, It seemed to him an age before he heard a voice in the darkness, which he recognized es that of the marshal, saying guardedly: ‘‘ Light the candle, aud look for that bit of paper.” Then all was profoundly still again. The voice had been at the door, but its owner moved away again so noiselessly that Micky could not hear him as he went. Trembling with excitement, if not fear, he proceeded to carry out his master’s orders, not assured indeed that his search would not be cut short by an unseen bullet. But nothing followed upon his striking the light. Unmolested he looked within the house near the door, and then passed to the outside, and shading the flame with bis hand, moved about until he found what he sought where the light wind had blown it. e then re-entered the house, and blew out the candle, and thereafter waited in darkness, A prolonged, death-like silence followed. Tben the breathless Irishman heard the door close, and the welcome voice of his superior said: ‘Come! Let’s have a light!” ““God be praised!” muttered the Irishman, whose relief was not marred by the touch of impatience in the marshal’s tones. It was evident that Probst was chagrined by his failure to discover anything where his i aie visitant had had so slight a start of m, ae as. eet =books.com : ’ ’ i . ~ ‘ ny) . . ' co £ +4 _— Pay Le Se : » a 7 ‘« - . et ~~, - = awe + 1A r 4. rat} » RS on > Wr. ¥ get mi - tubs ' - - #